


We Need To Talk

by Cat2000



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M, References to Addiction, Spanking, references to domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26550076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat2000/pseuds/Cat2000
Summary: Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from the television series House and I’m not making any money from this ficSummary: Follows Changing Needs. House punched Chase. Even though it was in a professional setting, it can’t be let go
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	We Need To Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Warning(s): Spoilers up to and including season three of House; spanking; AU; references to domestic abuse; references to drug addiction; references to one character punching another (canon)
> 
> Pairing: Chase/House

“We need to talk.” Chase stood in the doorway of House’s office, leaning lightly against the doorframe. His jaw ached from the punch House had given him. It wasn’t visibly bruised or swollen; he’d got ice on it as soon as his partner had listened to him. But it was still painful.

“Talking’s not a good idea right now,” House responded. “You know that. I know that. We _both_ know that. Go home, Chase. We’ll pick up in the morning.”

Shaking his head, Chase stepped through the door. He closed it behind him and walked over to the desk, placing his hands on it and leaning over, staring into House’s eyes. “You punched me.” He spoke each word slowly and carefully, enunciating them just in case the other man didn’t understand. Or didn’t listen to him.

House had been lounging back in his chair, deliberately not looking at Chase. But at the words, he glanced at Chase, eyes tracking towards where his fist had landed. He then looked away and shook his head. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“You didn’t let me talk to you,” Chase said. “You weren’t prepared to _listen_ to me.” His voice grew harsher and he had to stop. Take a deep breath. Remind himself that he couldn’t do this when he was angry. He needed to be calm. He needed to be in control. But his jaw ached and his mind hurt _so much worse_. He shook his head, straightened up, turned to walk away. Towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

Chase paused, but didn’t turn round. “I’m going home.”

“Wait.”

This time, Chase _did_ turn. He looked at House and he said, quietly, “I know the BDSM part of our relationship doesn’t have a place at work. But you still punched me. As a colleague or a partner, you physically hurt me. Without consent. Without a safeword in place. And you did it just because I was telling you something you didn’t want to hear.”

“That was….” House stopped talking. He stood up and limped round the edge of the desk, looking into Chase’s eyes. “Okay. I made an agreement. A promise. I was going to screw up. We both knew it would happen. And you’re right. I punched you because of…well, because of all sorts of reasons. That doesn’t make it right. I chose to give you the power to punish me, Chase. To be my Dom. You can go home. Or you can do what I gave you the power to.”

“I’m angry,” Chase replied.

“Then use it,” House stated. “Use that anger. Punish me. With that anger. Whatever you need to do. _However_ you need to do it.”

“Not like this.” Chase closed his eyes. He thought about walking out. Thought that no one could blame him for washing his hands of the other man. Washing his hands of this whole relationship. He still wasn’t sure why House had initiated this relationship. Or even really how House felt about him, other than just choosing him as a Dom.

He opened his eyes again and focused on House, who was watching him without saying anything. Chase rubbed at his sore jaw and finally nodded. “I’m not going to punish you in anger. But I’m not going to walk out either. I need to calm down to deal with this with a clear head.” He walked round behind the desk and patted the chair. “Sit down.”

“While I still can?” House’s smile was self-deprecating as he moved back round to the desk and sat down. He looked up at Chase. “I’m surprised you’re not making me stand in the corner to ‘think about what I’ve done’.”

“No corner time. But now that you’ve given me that idea, I might use it in the future.” Chase opened one of the drawers in the desk and took out a sheet of paper along with a pen. He put both on the desk in front of House. “I want you to write down all the reasons you shouldn’t be punching someone at work.” He stepped away from the desk. Moved to the door of the office. Looked out into the deserted hallway.

“ _Just_ the workplace?” House asked. “What about it I want to just punch a random stranger in the middle of the street?”

“I think even you would balk at punching a random stranger in the street.” Chase responded without turning round. “But if it helps, you can think about that too.”

House was silent for a few minutes and the only sound that came from behind Chase was the pen scratching on paper.

“This is stupid,” House muttered, the sound carrying clearly to Chase’s ears. “Can’t you just punish me and get it over with?”

“I don’t think you’ll be as eager to get it finished once we start.” Chase turned round. “But if you’ve finished, we can move on.”

House glanced down at the paper, which Chase could see was covered with writing, even from where he was standing. Then, the older man nodded and looked down at the paper before pushing it towards the edge of the desk. “I’m done.”

Nodding, Chase walked over and picked up the piece of paper. He scanned through it, noting that the list was short and to the point. Right at the top, House had written, _Chase will be mad at me._ Underneath, _Wilson will be mad at me._ He’d also included the possibility of being arrested and losing his job, but those were further down the list, under the statement that Cuddy would be mad at him.

“Well? Is it what you were looking for?” House asked.

Chase lowered the paper. “I wasn’t looking for anything specific. I was hoping that thinking about the cost of doing what you did would make you consider how to react better in the future. I know you’re under a huge amount of stress and pressure. I know it’s not easy. But you punched me when all I was trying to do was tell you what I’d figured out.”

“I know.” House’s voice was very quiet. “What do you want me to do?”

Chase didn’t answer with words. He put the paper down and then cleared a space on the desk. Then, locking eyes with House, he directed, “I want you to take down your pants and bend over the desk. Right here.” He pointed to the spot he’d cleared. “If you need to put something soft underneath your stomach for comfort, I’ll wait.”

“That won’t be necessary.” House stood up and walked round to stand next to Chase, facing the desk. He undid his pants and shoved them down, then leaned forward and over the desk, resting his cane next to him.

Chase glanced again at the desk and picked up a wide plastic ruler. He then placed his hand on House’s back, tucking the shirt up and out of the way, but he avoided touching the other man’s bare skin. He then snapped the ruler down across the fullest part of House’s backside.

House hissed softly, but other than that, he didn’t react. Chase kept his hand on the older man’s covered back as he continued to snap the ruler down against the other man’s bottom, working over every inch.

The other man’s reactions became more pronounced as Chase let the ruler land against the bare skin of his sit spots and thighs. House groaned and began to squirm as the ruler turned his skin pink and warm.

Chase delivered three circuits with the ruler, letting each strike fall with implacable force and at the same speed. He then paused and ran his hand over House’s backside, speaking softly. “I can understand why you were under enough pressure to snap, but you won’t punch me again. Because we’ve both seen the effects of domestic abuse. The people who believe their partners are truly sorry and won’t do it again. I’m not going to be one of them.”

“I understand.” House’s voice was strained. His fingers gripped the far edge of the desk, knuckles turning while. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not.” Chase stared at House’s bottom, at the pink showing through the other man’s underwear. Then, he reached out and hooked his fingers in the waistband of the other man’s underwear. He tugged them down, to just above House’s pants. Placing the ruler onto the desk, he began to swat firmly with his hand.

House gasped and his body jerked and then began to tremble. His shoulders slumped and a barely-stifled sob reached Chase’s ears.

Chase stopped the spanking and rubbed House’s back lightly. He then helped the other man to stand up and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

House hugged back, just as tight. “I wish I could tell you I’ll be better, but I’m still going to be an ass for the foreseeable future. I’m not going to hit you again, though. I promise.”

Chase nodded. “I believe you.” He pulled back, just enough to press a kiss to the older man’s lips.

House returned the kiss, with interest, then asked, as if he didn’t care about the answer one way or another, “Come back to my apartment?”

“Yeah.” Chase took a deep breath. He hugged House a bit longer and then let go of the older man.

House wiped briefly at his eyes, then reached down to pull his clothing back into place. “Want to take a ride on my motorcycle with me?”

Chase found himself grinning for the first time since the conflict. “You need to tell me how you managed to afford that.” He headed towards the office door.

“Maybe one day.” House walked next to Chase as they headed out of the office and along the corridor, to the elevator and in the direction of the parking lot.

** The End **


End file.
